


Let It Snow

by Aviss



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon - Book, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Growing Old Together, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:15:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28294428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aviss/pseuds/Aviss
Summary: It's the first snow of the season and Jaime doesn't quite like it. There are good things about snow, though, especially with the right person.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 62
Kudos: 170
Collections: JB Festive Festival Exchange 2020





	Let It Snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NightReaderEnigma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightReaderEnigma/gifts).



> Dear Nightreaderenigma, I loved all the prompts and at some point got the song stuck in my head! Hope you like it!  
> Thanks Slips for organizing this madness for all of us to enjoy!

Brienne opened her eyes in the dark room, dispelling the last vestiges of whatever dreams had dwelled in her head during the night, the fire in the hearth reduced to embers at this early hour. She looked out the window, the weak winter sun leaving a grey cast everywhere, and wasn't really surprised to see the coat of snow on the ground as far as the rocky cliffs surrounding the castle, the contrast with the blue waters beyond starkly beautiful.

It had been announced, after all, the arrival of winter for the first time since the dark days of the Dragons and the Others. It had been long enough that most of the wounds of that time were healed, and the arrival of winter didn't bring with it the fear of death and starvation, though the memory of it wasn't so far removed not to be felt.

It was cold, though, as _someone_ had been moaning about for the past fortnight since the northern winds had brought the chill and the smell of frost with them.

Brienne shivered as she sat up on the bed, her naked legs covered in goosebumps as soon as she put her feet on the floor. She hadn't known what being cold was until she had been to Winterfell for the first time, snow blanketing the grey stone of the sturdy castle as far as the eye could see, deep enough to make going anywhere a slow, exhausting trudge. She had to admit she didn't really care for it, not after having fought and won an impossible war in it, though there was a savage kind of allure in the first snowfall of winter.

"No," came the raspy voice from the depths of the fur mound on the bed, accompanied by a hand snaking out to grab at Brienne, seeking blindly until it found her hip and anchored itself there. “What are you doing?” The words were garbled where Jaime was pressing his face against the pillow, his silvering curls and the tip of his nose the only parts of him she could see. "Come back to bed."

“It’s already morning, Jaime,” Brienne said, as if that was reason enough. It was, both of them were too used to military life and war that rising with the sun was normal, though Jaime was becoming lazier the whiter his hair turned. She didn’t begrudge him that, they had fought wars and politics and themselves for many years, they had earned a rest even if they had plenty of duties to keep them busy as Lord and Lady of Casterly Rock.

“It’s _dawn_ ,” he protested, the mound of furs shifted and his head lifted slightly so she could now also see his eyes, still slightly unfocused, and his pouting mouth. “It’s _cold_.”

She had never been able to resist that mouth, Brienne twisted on the bed and pressed her lips briefly against his. He rumbled approvingly, and more of his head came out from under the furs revealing a naked shoulder which she also kissed.

“It has snowed,” she admitted, her breath tickling over his skin, and he made a noise of disgust that made her chuckle as he tried to dive inside again. “Come on, Jaime, we haven’t seen snow for years.”

"And I like it that way," he grumbled the way she knew he would.

Jaime's relationship with snow was the same he had with Winterfell and the Starks, during the long moons they had spent together they had managed a measure of respect, but he had never warmed up to them. 

Jaime had kept his word to Catelyn Stark, even after seeing and feeling what had become of her, and got the Stark girls to safety. That would have been enough, and Brienne had expected him to return to King's Landing and Cersei, and to the turmoil brewing there. Instead, he had stayed for as long as Brienne did in Winterfell first and then the Wall, fighting a war they all thought was lost during the dark days in the middle of winter, and nobody had been more surprised than Jaime when the sun had come out again after many, many days, and they were still standing. 

That had been the first time Jaime had kissed Brienne. Both of them had been frozen, exhausted, and covered in grime and things that didn't bear thinking about, and the kiss itself had been sloppy and clumsy, and over too soon. 

It still was Brienne's favourite kiss, and they had had too many in the last ten years to count them.

"It's gorgeous out there," she tried a new tactic.

" _It's gorgeous in here_ ," he countered, lifting his head again to give her a look, eyes roaming over her still naked body. "And much warmer." He lifted the furs invitingly and Brienne was really tempted to just slide inside and press herself against him.

"Alanna and Arthur have never seen snow, they'll want to play with their parents." He opened his mouth and Brienne stopped the words with a kiss before they made it out. "Yes, even with one hand you can play in the snow with your children."

"That's not what I was going to say," he said, and his hand this time sneaked around her waist and pulled at Brienne until she willingly lost her balance, falling back on the bed next to him. "They won't be awake at his time but we are. We can play in here."

It wasn't difficult to guess what he was thinking about, not with the way he had immediately maneuvered them until Brienne was trapped under his body, her skin being warmed again by his. Jaime was still strong, even closer to his fifty name day than he cared to admit, and still the most beautiful man she had ever seen, even with the wrinkles on the corner of his eyes and the laugh lines bracketing his mouth, his hair more silver than gold nowadays. 

His kisses were still the same, though, and they still took Brienne's breath away. She wound her hands on his hair and kissed him, pressing up against his body and letting her thighs fall open to make room for him, as if her body had been carved with the perfect place for him to fit. It was slow and sensual, the days of needy quick ruts past behind them, this was just the perfect buildup of heat in their perfect cocoon of furs and sweat slick skin and hot breaths, until their kisses were little more than shared breaths and the sky had taken a golden tint now the sun was higher in the sky. 

They didn't really pull apart for a while, dozing together until the shrill and excited voices of the children and the loud patter of overeager feet forced them to. 

They were ready, if not all the way decent, when the door burst open.

"Snow!" Alanna cried, jumping on the bed and landing on Jaime, who grunted an exaggerated oof, followed by a cry when Arthur imitated his older sister and crashed on top of him too.

"Thnow!!" Arthur repeated, the air scaping where his front teeth were missing, green eyes wide and shining.

Brienne couldn't help her laugh, loud and braying and infectious, and they got dressed while the children bounced on their bed and fired a million questions about Winterfell and the snow, and _could they eat the snowflakes, were they cold, when could they go outside, hurry up! It will melt!_

They were practically dragging Jaime and Brienne by their hands into the courtyard, where the layer of snow reached their ankles, and they threw themselves into it the way only children could, grabbing handfuls of snow with their bare hands and pressing their faces to them, tongues poking to catch falling flakes.

They held back for a moment while the children played together in the snow, pressed together under one of the arches, Jaime's left arm around Brienne's waist. She turned to look at him when she felt his fingers clench over her hip. Jaime was looking at the kids packing snowballs and throwing them at each other, missing more times than their aim was true but no less happy for that. 

He was staring at them, expression soft and wistful, his smile tinged with longing, and Brienne remembered a conversation from another life in another place, where the snow brought death instead of life and the cold was unrelenting, about childhood play and innocence, and knew he was thinking about that again and thinking he was too old and jaded for it.

As casually as possible, Brienne bent down and grabbed a handful of snow herself, keeping her eyes on the children. Jaime chuckled, at least until she turned suddenly towards him and crushed it over the top of his head, jumping aside immediately and joining the children in the courtyard.

Jaime yelped, a look of outrage on his face as the snow melted in his curls and dripped down his doublet. "Brienne!"

"Yes, Lord Lannister?" she said sweetly, packing another snowball under his narrowed gaze, the high pitched laughs of the children filling the yard.

"That wasn't a nice thing to do." His voice was low and serious, though the corners of his mouth were trying to lift up and his eyes were shining with amusement. "You know I can't fight back." 

"Can't you, Lord Lannister? Why don't you call your banners?" She pushed the kids in his direction, and saw when he finally realized that yes, he wasn't either too old or too crippled to play. Not while he had his family. "Go to your liege!"

The children laughed and rushed to Jaime's side, snow balls already ready for him. "Arthur, Alanna, to arms!" he commanded, marshalling his eager troops like the general he was, his smile promising a swift retribution she was going to enjoy once they were back inside, warm and in front of a fire. "I'll get you for this, wench!" 

"I'm counting on that, _my Lord_ ," she said, and let her next snowball fly.

...


End file.
